Do odd jobs even exist anymore?

I actually like this commercial.  Guy sees something he really likes and wants, and does what more people should do in order to attain their desires – work for it.  He busts his ass doing all the things nobody else wants to do, and in the end, surpasses his goal and is ultimately capable of buying two Jettas.  Feel good story of a year.

But it got me thinking – given my own financial woes, and the fact that I have a tendency to get mind-numbingly bored from time to time, that I would be more than capable of doing some of the things this guy does in the commercial, in order to supplement some additional income on the side for my own needs.  If it paid somewhat reasonable to off-set the cost of transportation, I’d gladly take ass-kickings from people while in pads, or walk dogs, or other odd jobs that don’t involve me having to deal directly with “customers,” are short periods at a time, and pay in cash under the table.  I don’t think I’d want to be the guy at the corner of Ponce and Monroe dressed as Uncle Sam, schilling for tax prep businesses, be the hot dog guy, or do nude modeling, but there are other random odd jobs I’d be willing to do for some side cash.

Here’s the thing though; upon looking for odd jobs in the Metro Atlanta area, they simply don’t exist.  Not to the under-the-table criteria that I’d prefer, at least.  Going to Craigslist results in nothing but modeling, veiled modeling ads that sound like porn screening, and veiled modeling ads that are for shitty no-name rappers that eventually turn into porn screenings.  That, or stuff that really does require existing skill, references, and experience.  So I googled “odd jobs,” and found a promising site of potential odd job listings, but it literally provided nothing but a list of Craigslist ads for the same shit.  And then, there was nothing else.

Maybe it’s because I’m not in San Francisco, or any other hippie/white/liberal community that would have random sheets of paper with tear-strips advertising one-off jobs on the fly, but at least in the Atlanta area, any tear sheets involve people trying to sell services so that they can make money, or support groups of some sort.  Dog walking is now done through official agencies, or “professional” walkers, and it seems like the ability to get odd jobs is now dependent on the cliched “who you know” kind of mentality.

Much like the mom ‘n pop industries were more or less decimated by the evolution of Wal-Marts and other superstores, the odd job culture seems to have been destroyed by society, and the incorporation of small businesses turning common, small labor into work hoarding and essentially, pimping.

PSA: If you’re hacking like you have the aids stay the fuck home

Seriously.  I work out and take other measures to ensure that I can be as healthy as can be, but I’d rather my efforts not be derailed by some asshole in the cube over who is coughing openly, repeatedly, and far too frequently, who is obviously working while still not truly remotely close to 80%.

I swear to god if I get sick because of this carrier, I’m going to rub my balls all over all of his stupid Godzilla toys in his stupid cube when he’s not around.

Too good for my own good, apparently

For the third time in the last fifteen months, I have been told that I “am overqualified” for a potential position.  If this is a valid excuse, it means that the companies telling me this simply don’t want to pay for my amount of money they think I’m seeking.  But I also suspect that this is also a nice way that they think they’re letting me down, so that I feel all good and nice that I’m too good for them.  Perhaps I might be overqualified for the positions that I’m ultimately being rejected for, but honestly, I’m aware of what I’m applying for when I do it, and I know I’m not going to be making giant money with some of these jobs.  But if I’m not qualified for a position, and they’re telling me I am, I’d rather hear the fucking truth.

Not working as a result of SNOWPOCALYPSE: Day 5

Officially, with today nixed as well, Mother Nature has taken a net of $1,200 out of my pocket this week.  It’s ironic how as children, we love the snow, and want nothing more than snow days to cancel school, and give us days off, but are completely oblivious to the grownups, whom like me, need it to not snow, so that they can work, in order to make a living and keep a roof over their heads.  As one with grownup responsibilities and concerns, I can sufficiently say, fuck snow days.

At least over the weekend, it is expected to surpass the 40F degree mark, meaning all this bloody ice all across Atlanta has a chance to actually melt now, and I’ve been informed that work is back on, as of Monday; it’s good/bad news, in that regard because bad, that this place doesn’t have off for Moloch, Jr. Day, but good, because I’m sick of not fucking working, and I can springboard that into a nice, full 40-hour work week.  The whole situation was kind of what I predicted; the roadways might have been mostly cleaned up, but the side streets to get to the office, and most importantly the mostly-covered, shaded, wooded parking lot of this place that is on several natural layers of hills, stairs, and asphalt had to have been turned into a parking lot of death through much of this week.  It’s slightly different than having to park on the curb when the driveway is too icy to traverse, because at this place of work, there is no metaphoric curb, or remotely close location to park and walk to the building – just hills.  And death.

In a twist of irony, I found another job lead that I think I could possibly get my foot in the door with – because I’ve been there before, as a freelancer.  Meaning, if I were to apply with this company, there’s about a 100% chance that the agency that initially placed me there for a paltry seven cumulative working days is going to c-block the whole thing by demanding a finder’s fee.  But I have to try anyway.

Not working as a result of SNOWPOCALYPSE: Day 4

Okay, today is bullshit. I went out driving yesterday, and sure, it’s hazardous in some spots, mostly near my home, but it’s definitely not impossible to get to work today. I’ve been calling my current place of work repeatedly, and as indicative by the lack of pickup at the reception desk, I have to assume that they’re closed, or at least only the overzealous who don’t live far are making it in, working independently. Yesterday, I drove around, and yes, it’s hazardous in some areas, but it’s by no means impossible to get around and about. Four fucking straight days of non-work (as of now), and I’m officially peeved about it.

In a bit of unintentional humor, while watching the news all morning long, gauging the condition of the streets and highways, I learned that it must suck to be the “social media coordinator” for Fox 5 Atlanta, when it comes to acknowledging birthdays of children in a city that’s like 97% black. It’s literally like the scene from Office Space where the Bobs can’t pronounce Samir’s last name, culminating in the classic “not gonna work here anymore” drop.

Happy birthday to Caden L, age 11!
Next up is Dee… on-tay W! Age 12. (D’ontae)
And then we have a happy birthday for…Kuh-lay-ee H, age 10 (Kalei)
Happy birthday, Lacy H, age 13.
Birthday wishes go out to…Shay…Quin-cee-ya W. (Shay’e-Quincya)

And finally, happy birthday to…Duh…zan-nee M. (Dazhan’e)

Seriously, it’s good that you don’t actually see his face when trying to read these names, because I’m sure he’s got the most irritated and agitated look on his face at all these names containing more accent marks and random apostrophes than a Spanish textbook. It’s like parents deliberately name their kids these weird names for the deliberate purpose so that they’re easy to cyber-stalk or monitor them on Facebook because they’re legitimately the only names on the entire planet spelled in such asinine manners.

Not working as a result of SNOWPOCALYPSE: Day 3

Guess who’s driveway is the one with all the ice that has yet to melt on an incline?  Well, at least it’s not like I’m missing work because of it; there’s nobody at the office today, so it’s not like I could go there, and log hours in an empty office.  But man, this really sucks that this is currently three days in which I haven’t been getting paid.  I fear I might have to dip into my savings yet again to supplement some of my upcoming bills.

In other news, Capital One sucks.  Given my recent financial woes, I’m forced to lean on a credit card to get my car fixed, and just to get some breathing room, I figured it would be a good time to increase my limit; I was denied over the phone, with no definitive answer, and was promised one in the upcoming letter, ten business days later.  The letter arrived, and gave me the same lack of definitive answer.  My only theory is that I’m a “bad” customer, because my card up until recently, has been responsibly paid, zeroed out, and I’m not a frivolous spender who can easily be “trapped” into debt.  Either way, this morning, a courtesy call came from Capital One, asking if I was happy with them, to which I literally laughed at the phone, and told him my plight.  The phone representative made absolutely no effort to retain my business when I basically told them that as soon as I find another appealing offer, that I am transferring my remaining balance, and future money elsewhere.  I guess they don’t want customers.

A conundrum

The hand that has been feeding me throughout the last three years is now seriously jeopardizing my immediate future.  Aside from the earnest, honest approach to the situation, I don’t know what to do, if things do take the worst-case scenario.

In other news, my replacement wheel still has not arrived, and I am still driving around on a god damn donut.  At this, I am perturbed, but my morale is still not all lost, because I am currently working, and am still under the belief that 2011 is going to be a much better year.